Toni Stone
401 Buck Hollow Road
Fairfax, VT 05454
getting off it about Vermont jan 14, 2001
i came to Vermont first as a teacher. a student had taken a class in Boston…
later, he returned to Vermont to live. he began calling me on the phone “will you come to Vermont to teach a class?” he asked.
i said i would. i did.
he rallied a crew who wanted to attend.
this included his French Canadian wife and a host of friends interested in being entrepreneurs.
I made a plan to get up NORTH.
the first few times i flew in looking down on GREEN MOUNTAINS old rolling hills and fields of such vibrant color.
since i was accustomed to flying into huge dirty smoking cities, there was sure relief to be out of the fray.
i was living on Cape Cod out of the drift
of dirty big cities at the time. I was grateful.
i appreciated Vermont right away. MOUNTAINS put me
QUICKLY INPERSPECTIVE about how big whatever problems,
A thought i had were…. standing beneath them, i was a complaining dwarf. I liked that. it caused me to shut up.
in 1986 the first class was at an inn on a lumpy hill in Jericho. John and Ayn flew in with me to help. we all had our own space. we shared a bathroom. outside the windows IT WAS TRULY QUIET, SERENE AND GREEN. thankful we were
to put our feet up sitting on the veranda, sipping coffee from mugs while watching bird traffic instead of a freeway.
there were berries, blossoms and fragrant breezes. the hosts of the inn
stayed out of the way. we had room to feel and sense surroundings
AS IF WE BELONGED. they were ours. it was satisfying to be there. natural and good. easy to have large expanses of sky.
at night, starry skies gave notice “we are living in heavens. this is universe.
planet is what you are on.”
we liked that.
complaining dwarfs had to clear desks for wonder. one couldn’t interface
with magnanimities and still stay in convoluted concerns…
not with shocking beauty of green hills, barrels of birds, raccoons running bye and vast mountains behind it all….at least i couldn’t.
…constantly pulled up higher, having to scan out wider, wanting to think more fully, i really liked feeling that way.
in that first Vermont class i met Michael, anchor man. he would become the
spokesperson for an eventual move herea few years later.
with suspenders on his jeans he was like someone i never sawbefore…
in Boston no one dressed like that. he had grown up on a farm in Missouri
but he called it MISS OUR AHH. although he wasn’t actually wearing overalls. he did dream of his own tractor one day.
fourteen years later he has three of them.
his wife has her own studio. their little babies are grown girls who have new year’s eve parties!
that day, although i was enthralled with the place, i did not yet dream of living here.
it happened over time. time after time i came back for more classes, stayed at other places, even the Howard Johnson Inn…
closer to the little airport and a long highway to Boston.
each time i did two kinds of responses…
overwhelm at how slow and behind technology this place was and wonder at how quiet, sweet and calming it was.
the lake with Adirondack Mountains on the west andGreen Mountains
in the east, constantly pulled… some days the beauty made it impossible to alwavs watch the road.
fortunately roads don’t have that many cars on them anyway,
so it worked out okay. i began to drive up from the Cape in my car.
the six hour journey was not so difficult once into New Hampshire.
vistas and views took away tired tendencies. lack of stores, signs and buildings on the Interstate made breathing deep easier.
i found i could think wide, deep and wonderingly. rivers rolled by outside car windows.
high tall evergreen trees were everywhere. down on Cape Cod, soil is not so deep, trees are wide and short. i liked the way Vermont looked.
i didn’t like how long it took to get waited on in a shop or store.
no seeming ability to rush, get with the program, go for it, get in gear or hustle like
city people. i was too much hurry. there was another program.
it was called slow down, take a break, breathe deeper, relax, enjoy life while living it. a simpler way looked dumbed down to me.
i wanted fast, go go, let’s move it.
i mistook thinking for the reactive, repetitive data of survival. time to brush teeth, what is the next appointment and who will go to the post office.
this is not thinking.
this is repetitive data for survival.
each time i returned to Vermont i let down hyped up expectancies to make room for watching, and listening.
appreciated the interfaces with green environments.
the weather runs everything and everybody. now that i live here,
i have a few weather radios. i make sure to get the the sky report.
i make plans with the understanding “WEATHER PERMITTING” we make dates with back up dates behind them,
in case weather doesn’t permit meeting.
moving to Vermont was A VERY GOOD MOVE.
it took me down to where i forgot to be. little by little i am learning to be quiet, passive, allowing and
not afraid of the cold, dark, fallow field.
only a part of the four season picture each year presents winter…
but that is exactly
the part i didn’t want to allow.
moving to Vermont
is teaching me to love winter and winter’s people.
